


Bite

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, PWP without Porn, mostly all smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:05:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Jean had been expecting his night to go anywhere, this wasn’t very high on his list. But as he stared, his cigarette slowly burning down to the butt, barely touched through the conversation and the walk here, he couldn’t think of a complaint. Not that he really bothered to try and come up with one.</p><p>"You’re fucking insane, Jaeger." He said, his lips stretching in a grin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite

**Author's Note:**

> oops, slacked on editing, sorry. 

If Jean had been expecting his night to go anywhere, this wasn’t very high on his list. But as he stared, his cigarette slowly burning down to the butt, barely touched through the conversation and the walk here, he couldn’t think of a complaint. Not that he really bothered to try and come up with one.

"You’re fucking insane, Jaeger." He said, his lips stretching in a grin.

"Yeah, I know, you can tell me more about it later. Now let’s go, Jean, before I freeze my ass off and he gets tired of waiting," Eren replied impatiently, opening the door. He shifted his footing, waiting for Jean to step inside, his breath curling in a puff of soft, white mist in the cold air and his shoulders were up to cover his chin and ears. He almost wanted to make him suffer a bit, but sooner than later, he’d make an exasperated comment and go in without him.

Taking one last drag from his clove cigarette, Jean put it out on a metal plate before dropping it inside the small box. Walking by Eren, he blew the smoke in his face with a sly smirk and stepped into the warmth of the building. The brunette growled but said nothing, just followed after him, typing in the five-digit pass code to open the interior doors. They entered the fancily decorated foyer and made their way to the elevators, muttering snarky jabs at each other under their breath. On their way up to the fifth floor, Jean placed his elbow on Eren’s shoulder, leaning against him.

"Wait. Does he know we’re coming?" He asked, placing his head against the other’s.

"In what way? We haven’t even started yet."

"Ha-ha, dipshit. As in does he know we’re showing up at his door together instead of separately like normal."

"Nope."

"I love surprises."

"So do I. Hopefully he feels the same."

Jean hummed. “Could always just make sure he doesn’t get the chance to comment. He can shove the door in our faces later.”

"Put me on your shoulders and then we’ll be able to do that."

"I could throw you at him."

"I can already see that ending the night in the emergency room."

Jean laughed as the elevator stopped and the doors dinged open. They stepped out and he followed the brunette a few doors down, leaning against the wall beside apartment five-oh-six, playing with his lighter. Eren knocked and they waited in silence for a while before he repeated the action.

"Maybe he’s out," Jean said, shoving the lighter back into his pocket.

Eren shook his head. “I called him earlier and told him I was stopping by.”

"Then maybe he’s asleep."

"Or maybe you should shut the fuck up."

Jean grinned at him, beginning to reach out with the comment, “make me” on his tongue when the lock clicked and the door opened. His remark cut off as Eren stepped into the apartment and he followed after him.

"Hey, Er- Jean!"

He grinned up at him, slinking by their taller boyfriend and waltzing into the apartment he knew just as well as his own. Kicking off his shoes in the hall, he turned, his trademark smirk back on his face.

"What are you two doing here..?"

Jean looked at Eren, inclining his head. “Your idea, loser.”

"You didn’t object."

"No," he said, looking back at the owner of the apartment. "No, I didn’t."

"You have that look on your face again, Jean," Bertholdt said, slowly closing the door and leaning against it.

Eren laughed and started taking off his coat and scarf, placing his boots neatly against the wall. Jean stepped back, knowing the couch was there and letting the back of his knees hit the armrest. He fell back landing with an oomph.

"We’ve come to take over your living room, TV and kitchen," Eren said, moving around the couch and sitting on Jean’s stomach.

"Also, Eren needs a blow job because he’s getting- ow! Ass!"

Eren pinched his cheek again, pulling this time. “Unless you’re volunteering to give it, don’t go announcing things like that, Horseface!”

"Fuck, let go! So you admit that you need one?"

"I’m going to punch you in the dick, jackass, if you don’t shut up."

Jean laughed and knocked his hand away before jabbing him in the ribs. He could hear the soft chuckle from behind Eren that told him that Bertholdt had joined them in the living room.

"I’ve seen enough pornos to know where this is going. You two get into a little fight and the next thing you know, Jean really is on his knees for you," Bertholdt said, his low voice laced with amusement.

Eren made a strange sound in his throat while Jean looked thoughtful. “You know, I think I gave him one about two days ago. It was Tuesday that we went to the Olive Garden, right? I think that gives me a free pass this week.”

"The only free pass you get is that I won’t rearrange your face tonight." Eren said, poking him in the cheek.

He snapped his teeth at him and squirmed, trying to get him off. “You wouldn’t do that. You like my face. You think I’m sexy as hell. And you’re right, I am.”

Bertholdt leaned over the armrest, placing as hand on the back of the couch to support his tall frame and raised an eyebrow. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a big ego, Jean?”

He nodded. “All the time. But that’s not the only big thing I’ve got.”

"You mean besides your stupidity?" Eren asked, bouncing once.

Jean grunted and jabbed him in the side again. “Why don’t you try and find out, Jaeger.”

"Please don’t make a mess of my couch, I just cleaned it."

"I nominate Eren as the slutty maid if anything gets on it."

"I don’t think there’s anything that’ll clean your blood off it. I’ll just have to buy you a new couch, B."

"But I like this couch. It’s comfy. It finally got broken in."

"Well I can’t get it dry cleaned once I murder someone."

"The love for my life that I feel in this room is going to move me to tears," Jean said with a dramatic sigh, hand over his heart.

"There has got to be a way to shut this guy up," Eren growled, planting a hand on Jean’s face, blocking his view.

"I can think of a few," Bertholdt said, his voice sounding closer than before. Throwing Eren’s hand off his face, he opened his mouth to retort, but the thought crumbled before it could reach his tongue. He gulped, blushing a bit at how close Bertholdt’s face was to his own. He was close enough that he could feel the warmth coming off his skin and he started to sweat, going cross-eyed as he tried to focus on something other than the fact that his lips were less than an inch away.

"Oh, sweet beautiful silence," he could hear Eren say, but Jean knew that if he tried to speak, then he’d end up pressed against his boyfriend’s face. Wasn’t that why they’d shown up though? Something they rarely did at the same time because Jean and Eren usually ended up arguing similarly like they just were, only in a higher degree?

Deciding it was as good a chance as any to avoid that, Jean leaned up, kissing Bertholdt and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling him down. He could hear him grunt and Eren make a surprised yelp, but he just pressed his lips harder against him, moving slowly and breathing through his nose. Despite the fact that Eren was sandwiched in the middle and Jean was supporting their combined weight, it didnt take long for Bertholdt to start kissing him back, deepening it. They’d done this enough time to know how to kiss each other, and if he ever minded the fact that Jean smoked occasionally, he never said it or showed any sign of it.

"That’s cool, just make out in my lap, that’s fine. I’ll just sit here."

Turning his head to the side, he spoke over Bertholdt’s shoulder while the taller man worked his say down to his neck, nipping lightly and sucking on the skin, making his eyelids flutter and his nerves tingle.

"You know, technically you’re both on my lap, so either join the party or shut your stupid mouth."

"I’ll shut your mouth, Kirschtein."

"Bring it, Jaeger."

"Please don’t fight when I’m in the line of fire," Bertholdt said, speaking against Jean’s neck.

He just chuckled and pulled the man back up to press his lips against his. “My legs are going numb,” he murmured between kisses, speaking like he was stating a fact instead of complaining.

"And whose fault is that?" Bertholdt asked, not giving him a chance to answer.

Jean made a noncommittal noise in his throat that turned into a soft whine when he felt a hand slide up from his knee to his thigh, thumb pressing against his crotch, nail scratching against his denims. He tried to move his hips but with Eren sitting on him like he was, it was nearly impossible. As the thumb pressed a bit harder and then was joined by the rest of the hand, he could only mumble incoherently against Bertholdt, pulling the man closer, fingers pressing into his shoulders as he reacted.

Jean knew it was Eren palming him, seeing as Bertholdt’s fingers were combing through his hair, pressing against the spots on his scalp that made his toes curl and his body shiver. He moaned, stomach flexing beneath Eren. Panting, he shifted his legs, tangling them with Bertholdt’s.

His eyes rolled back beneath his lids and he turned his head away from the other man’s mouth, breathing hard and biting his lower lip.

"You’re right. It did shut him up," Eren said, his voice a little thick. Bertholdt laughed against Jean’s ear and he just flipped the brunette off, earning himself a rough squeeze that drew a strangled sound from his throat, one he didn’t even know he could make.

He could feel the weight lift off him and slowly opened his eyes, wondering where Eren’s hand had gone. They looked at each other before looking at him and Jean just frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows, wondering what they were thinking. Eren grabbed Bertholdt’s hand and led him away, down a separate hall. The tall male just curled his finger in a “come hither” way as they disappeared around the corner. Rolling off the couch and to his feet, Jean dropped his jacked over the armrest and followed after them, finding them in a heated lip-lock and looking disheveled. If asked, he wouldn’t deny that he found the sight hot, and came up behind Eren, peppering kisses down his neck, pressing himself close to him. He could hear and feel his breath hitch, his skin shivering and the dampness of sweat beginning to form on his tanned skin. Trailing his hands down his torso, Jean slid them over the front of his pants, kneading at him as best as he could from his angle, feeling the area slowly stiffen. He chuckled and pressed himself flush against Eren, grinding himself against his tailbone, mirroring the moan the brunette released. 

Looking up, he met Bertholdt’s gaze, grinning against Eren’s neck, watching his hands work down the black dress-shirt the brunette wore, long fingers spreading the two sides, splaying across his chest and drifting down. Jean raised his hands to pull it off him, the tallest male replacing him in kneading and palming.

Pulling the shirt off Eren’s shoulders, he dropped it on the floor before reaching for Bertholdt’s, tugging it up and forcing them to break their kiss. The brunette gasped a little, taking shuddering breaths as he remembered to inhale. He met a bit of trouble with the sleeves, the neck getting caught for a moment on Bertholdt’s chin and leaving his hair on end and mussed with static, the fabric clinging to his wrists and arms and downright refusing to release him. 

Eren raised his hands and put them on the man’s chest, pushing against him while Jean pulled, stumbling back as it finally gave. The three laughed for a bit before Eren turned around, making quick work of his. With all three lying in crumpled heaps on the floor, they started on the rest of their clothes, stripping each other in a similar fashion until there was nothing but the press of skin against exposed skin, the coarseness of Bertholdt’s cotton sheets as they moved to the bed. 

Crawling over to Eren, he pushed him back against the headboard, kissing his way down his neck, biting hard and drawing a long, throaty moan from him before moving a bit lower, giving a bit of attention to his nipples, sucking and pinching before going lower, biting down hard enough to leave a crescent mark on his stomach. He paused when he felt lips on his own back, teeth dragging down his spine to the base. Making a pleased sound, he continued on his task, nipping and leaving mark after mark on Eren’s stomach, licking a line down to his bellybutton and dipping his tongue in because he knows that, despite his embarrassment and whining when Jean did it, Eren secretly liked it, knew it made him bite his tongue or his cheek or his lip, before continuing down to the short, coarse hair. Throwing a quick glance up at the brunette, Jean gripped his heated flesh in a tight grip, stroking him in a few long movements before flicking his tongue at the bead of moisture that formed on the tip, then flat against the head, slowly lowering his mouth around him. 

Teasing him, he sucked on the head but went no further, curling his tongue under and along the underside just a bit before coming back up. Behind him, he noted the shifting in the mattress and wondered absently about what Bertholdt was doing, but focusing his attention back on Eren when the brunette jerked his hips, growling and fisting his hair, trying to get him to go further. Chuckling around him, Jean decided to comply and dropped down until he felt him brush the back of his throat, keeping his mouth tight around him. Eren jerked his hips again and he let him, nose in his curls, making them shiver as he breathed hard. The bed shifted again but he continued what he was doing, bobbing his head and rubbing his tongue against Eren’s arousal, fingers pressed into his hips and thighs, nails leaving small indents. His grip in his hair tightened and he gave a low, gravelly moan, breath shuddering out of his lungs, catching in his throat. 

His moan turned into choked sound and he almost gagged on Eren, his own hips jerking in surprise at the feeling of hands spreading him and something warm and wet against his hole, brushing against him, curling and pressing in just a little. He whined around Eren, eyes fluttering shut as he realized it wasn’t a finger, the hot air against his skin all he needed to verify that fact. His hands worked against the brunette’s skin, clenching and unclenching as Bertholdt’s tongue pushed inside his body. His face heated up and his body rocked back, encouraging him. Eren’s hand tightened in his hair and he moved his head a bit faster, trying to focus on what he was doing instead of becoming distracted by the slick muscle pushing further in, tip curling against his walls, making him whimper, his voice mixing together with the man he was sucking off.  

He dug his nails into his skin and Eren reciprocated by pressing his own into Jean’s scalp, the pain adding and lacing with the heat and pleasure, driving them to a new high. Without warning, the brunette yanked his head up and he grunted, his growl cut off as he pressed his lips hard enough against him to make it ache, the metallic taste of blood against his tongue from the lip that had been caught between teeth making his head spin. He didn’t know if it was his or Eren’s – though the sting in his top one said a lot – but it was all they needed to spark an urgency and blistering heat that scorched its way through them. Eren pressed his lips roughly against him and Jean returned the demanding kiss, sucking on his tongue and moaning into his mouth, his sounds swallowed by the brunette. He groaned again as Bertholdt curled his tongue, head rolling to the side and he gave a low cry, muscles shaking a little. Eren mouth moved across his cheek, enveloping his ear and sucking on the lobe, making his arms want to collapse beneath him. He mumbled out a string of curses, almost losing it as the man behind him reached around his waist as gripped him, stroking him slowly, the pace making him dizzy in how different it was to Eren making his way down his jaw to his neck, biting him. He choked out another cry, eyes watering at the heat that flowed through his veins, lighting him up and making his nerves shiver and tingle, his lower abdomen feel tight. 

“F-fuck…” he said, his voice twisting and coming out strangled as Bertholdt added one finger to him and then another soon after. He jerked against him, gasping, he breathing rugged as Eren bit down again and again in different places, making him reel from it all. Just as the man behind him pulled himself away, the brunette guided him back down to his erection, brushing his hair from his face. With a long, high-pitched keen, Jean opened his mouth, saliva dripping down onto him as he took him back into his mouth, relaxing his throat easily and taking him completely in, moving a bit sloppily but with all the skill he possessed, alternating between sucking and swallowing around him, mind working overtime to remember how Eren liked it. 

It didn’t take long for Bertholdt to return to his previous position and Jean didn’t have to wonder where he’d gone. This time he knew that what was being pressed against him was fingers, the long digits slick with warmed lube and pressing into him, going a lot further than the tongue had. He curled them, pressing hard against his walls and rubbing against spot Jean had little doubt he was familiar with. His eyes rolled behind his lids and he pushed his hips back, trying to get him deeper while he moaned around Eren, making the brunette choke and thrust his hips upward. He rocked against his mouth and Jean just put his hands on the bed, holding himself on shaking arms to let him do it, tongue feeling a little raw from the friction. His hips stuttered and he knew that Eren was close, could feel it in the way his white-knuckle grip on his hair tighten and was no doubt pulling out some of the strands, and the way his moans changed in pitch, getting rough and higher, thick as he moved his hips faster. 

Just as Eren came undone, Bertholdt curled his fingers against a spot that made his mind go blank and his body jerk against him. Jean choked, yanking himself off of Eren as he tried to swallow down as much as he could. 

“Shit,” he muttered, coughing again. He could feel it on his chin and upper lip, some on the bridge of his nose and sent as half-hearted glare at Eren, but the brunette’s eyes were closed, brows furrowed and lip caught tight between his teeth, droplets of sweat beaded on his skin. He felt a hand on his shoulder and slowly turned, still clearing his throat and coughing every now and then. Bertholdt guided him until he faced him, back pressed against Eren’s chest. He felt the brunette’s arms around his waist, ghosting across his skin while his head pressed against his shoulder, breathing still uneven as he rode out his high. 

“Ready?” Bertholdt asked, kissing him soundly while he pulled Jean’s legs up to rest on his shoulders, leaning forward on his arms. Pulling back a little, he licked up the fluids on his face in long strokes of his tongue before kissing him again. Jean could taste Eren all over again and moaned, returning it almost desperately. 

“Y-yeah,” he said, wetting his lips once they’d parted. Bertholdt reached between them and eased himself forward, pressing into Jean. He groaned and leaned his head back against Eren’s shoulder, panting as his legs pulled him closer. His position made it hard to breathe but the angle more than made up for it, letting the man pushed into him just a bit further, pushing against all the right spots. 

Jean keened, his mouth falling open and he turned his head against Eren, breathing against his hair. After a moment to adjust to the heat and the pressure and the nerve-singeing pleasure that made toes curls and fingers press into hips, breath quicken and bodies turn slick with sweat, Bertholdt began to move. Slow at first, but bit by bit he picked up his pace, each long stroke making Jean moan and jerk back against him in a weak attempt to move with him. He swore again and again, whimpering out Bertholdt’s name and then Eren’s and at some point, some part of his mind noted then he’d put the two names together and cried out variations of that. His tone began to slip as he switched between English and French, the few Russian and German words he knew from his college days. He could hear commentary about it, whether it was Eren or Bertholdt or both, his mind didn’t register the words, lost to the point where he wasn’t even speaking words anymore. 

He opened his eyes, though he couldn’t recall closing them, his vision swimming and everything around him taking on a surreal feeling. With Bertholdt moving in short, quick thrusts that hit all the right places, Jean was fast approaching his limit, his stomach coiled almost painfully tight and burning inside of him. Just when he was reaching his end, he felt a hand grab his wrist, then another, slightly smaller one on his other, the same kind gripping his erection tight in just a way that he could feel it stop him from being able to do anything. He cried out, frustrated and surprised and more than just a bit impatient, having been so, so close. 

Jean watched with bleary eyes, moaning almost continuously until his voice cracked as Bertholdt did what he couldn’t, releasing deep inside of him as he hips came to a stuttering stop, moving minutely as he lost himself to the bliss like Jean so badly wanted to do. He leaned over him, dripping sweat onto him for a few minutes, then eased himself away, making Jean whimper and shiver at the sudden loss, still so close. 

Turning his head, he whimpered at Eren, begging him to let him go, to remove his hand, long since passed the stage where his pride got in the way. But Eren just said something to Bertholdt, something Jean was too dazed to understand, held as he was on the precipice with his body burning from the inside out. He pressed his face into Eren’s hair, still muttering out his pleas that would be impossible to deny later that he’d ever spoken them. He could feel movement behind him, the action repeated and in his muddled state, he couldn’t figure out what it was until, the brunette was coaxing him up a bit and then back. He felt him enter him and moaned, louder than he had before, his body tightly wound and sensitive to the point where every little bit felt like it just stretched on and on. 

Eren let him sit there for a moment, getting his bearings until he could shift himself up to his knees and move on his own, rising and dropping back down without restraint, shocking his system with every rough strike against his most sensitive areas. The brunette moaned against his back, voice just as loud as his as they rose in pitch. His hand was on Jean’s hip, doing his best to help him move, but with only the one, it did little besides rest there. But with Eren having already had one orgasm, he wasn’t lasting long, his grip becoming a bit tighter and his short thrusts uneven. 

Finally, _finally_ , he released his hold on Jean, instead stroking him hard. His mind went blank and his breathing stopped as Eren bit down hard into his shoulder, hard and with the obvious intent on drawing blood, the shock sending Jean over the edge hard enough that dark spots popped up in his vision, his back arching and popping in some places. He felt full and knew Eren had followed him, but he couldn’t quite register anything, just slumped against his boyfriend with just enough sense to know he had to start breathing again. 

Little by little, he became more oriented, his body humming with pleasure and lethargy, cradled between two bodies. He mumbled something, or tried to, but neither they or he knew what he was trying to say. He felt something warm and damp against his shoulder and body, blinking to try and clear the fog out of his eyes enough to see his partners wiping him off. They looked like they were already clean, Bertholdt clad in low-riding cotton pajama bottoms and Eren in a long shirt that was probably normal size for their taller boyfriend. 

He slumped against Eren, grumbling sleepily about cruelty and how he better not have tetanus from that bite. The brunette just sighed and shoved him down under the blankets, climbing down after him while Bertholdt went around the house and turned off the lights before joining them. They lay curled against each other, arms wrapped around the others as best they could as they all drifted off into a warm, comfortable sleep. 


End file.
